Potter Missed His True Calling
by Clorinda
Summary: Having landed himself the girl of his dreams, James Potter officially looks upon himself as a matchmaker extraordinaire. Sadly enough, there are plenty of people willing to disagree. One shot, with Sirius x Remus and a side dish of James x Lily.


**Potter Missed His True Calling**

**By** Clorinda

**Rated**: PG

**Category**: Humour/Romance

**Summary**: Having landed himself the girl of his dreams, James Potter officially looks upon himself as a matchmaker extraordinaire. Sadly enough, there are plenty of people willing to disagree. A rambling, tripping, idiosyncratic one-shot, with Sirius x Remus and a side dish of James x Lily.

**Author's Note**: Random thought that just occurred to me: in most MWPP Era stories, especially of the rom-com type (be it SBRL or even JPLE) James is invariably a comic-effect-producing dolt, and Sirius is invariably an established higher-up-the-celestial-ladder god of sex and seduction.

* * *

Seven-year-old Nymphadora Tonks was in studious concentration. By no means was she a vain child, but there were other explanations as to why she was staring at the bowl of the silver soupspoon. She wasn't admiring her own reflection; rather, she was concentrating on using all her willpower to turn her uncle's hair blue. 

Blue — to Tonks — was a very amusing colour. Having been accused by her mother of "turning Daddy's hair blue," she was determined to try a similar experiment on the very-convenient Sirius Black who was seated right next to her (he and his friends were staying over for the holidays). Until then, she had been sure her powers as a Metamorph were restricted to the confines of her own self, but Mummy had a knack of always being right.

And dinner was the perfect opportunity. James Potter was regaling the gathering with some hilarious story that kept causing Andromeda to shoot dirty glares at him ("_Not_ in front of Dora!") but Tonks wasn't really listening.

Neither was James, of course.

Ted Tonks leaned forward in his chair, his dinner half-forgotten. "Don't tell me you got away with that, Potter— not even Minevra McGonagall's that forgiving."

James looked shocked that anyone could even suggest such a thing. "What! Let _me_ off after hanging upside down on a broom, holding on to the gargoyle bust outside the staff room for support? And McGonagall!"

"Perish the thought," exclaimed Sirius in utter horror.

"Not even dear, sweet, heart-of-gold, Dumbledore-and-I-secretly-snog-in-locked offices Minnie McGonagall is such an enthusiastic advocate of love. Nah," he added, in a _relatively_ sober voice, "she put me in detention for to months, to clean out toilets. Sirius would've got away, but thankfully there's something called divine justice"— he ducked as a pea shot right at him—"and she collared Sirius as an accessory to conspiracy to besot Lily Evans."

James's girlfriend of three days folded her arms and exchanged an exasperated look with Andromeda. Lily's boyfriend of three days grinned broadly at her. "Oh come on, don't look so disapproving!— you thought it was the most romantic thing I'd ever done."

"_Ooohh yeeah_," she drawled with a glint in her eye. "Interrupt Quidditch practice so that you could hang upside down while telling me _Lily! Lily-flower of my heart, I am madly, truly in love with you_! Long sentences quoted ad verbatim of course."

"You know," volunteered Remus Lupin, the so far most silent and most amused dinner guest, "I dare say James is right. It probably _was_ the most romantic thing _he's_ ever done—"

"—Not that it was the most romantic thing _ever_ done!"

And James scowled on sulkily while his two best friends leaned over the table and slapped palms.

* * *

Absently, as she twirled a lock of hair around her finger, a sudden thought occurred to Lily. It was a … disconcerting one. "James — hey, Jamie?" 

"Mm?"

His head in her lap under one of the many fruit trees in Andromeda's orchard-like garden, James wasn't in the mood to be disturbed— even if it was his one and only kissing partner doing the disturbing. He was floating into pleasurable daydreams about being dressed like Julius Caesar, sprawled on the banks of the Nile, his head cushioned in a dyed-red-haired Cleopatra's lap, being fed exotic African grapes. Of course, for that particular fantasy to be real, he would have to be bald to start with— an aspect he was resolutely ignoring.

Lily responded by curling her fingers around the back of his head and gave a sharp tug on his hair.

"OW!"

The effect indeed was spectacular. James jerked, lifting himself at least six inches above her skirt-covered knees, and dropping back to the ground with a thump— he hit a mysteriously-placed tree root instead of Lily's lap again (she had remembered to scoot back, all too aware of a thing called gravity.)

"What'd you do that for?" moaned James, rubbing the back of his head. He scrambled up on his knees, careful to avoid any other sticking out parts of the tree.

"Because you deserved it," she said simply, leaning back against the tree and stretching her legs, but patting the ground beside her in invitation anyway. "Now listen up."

James complied, wondering where the dear, sweet loving Lily of the past three days had gone to. This new Lily that popped up like a Jack-in-the-box in Paradise was disturbingly reminiscent of the Lily Evans who used to hex him in the corridors when she caught him picking on other students.

"Yeah, what were you going to say?" he groused, moving to sit beside her again.

"Well, see— I just realized—" Her hand covered his, intertwining their fingers, and her skin was so smooth and cool that the unexpected contact made his mouth suddenly go dry and his heart started thudding in his chest so hard that he could barely breathe— let alone speak. It occurred to him that she was a vixen in disguise, and he loved her for it, and that she knew it as well as he did.

"It's about Remus and Black," she admitted. "Somehow — don't you ever get _vibes_ — y'know of thoroughly unsaid sexual tension?"

For the second time in five minutes, James nearly leapt out of his skin, but this time narrowly missing concussing himself.

"What?"

He twisted around to face her properly, and she matched his gaze levelly. "_Well_?"

"I still say _what_? I thought you get those vibes if the two in question bicker non-stop and stare endlessly at each other when they think the other person's not looking. And look at Remus and Sirius—! They're perfectly matey … okay, maybe Sirius does do some of the staring thing— but hey, Sirius stares at anything and everything that's good-looking, including Rosemarta at the bar and she generally pushes him away with a twelve-foot-long pole."

Lily shrugged.

"Well, it's eloquently put, but I dunno— I just get a feeling about those two…"

James peered at her. "Hey, this wouldn't have anything to do with that female intuition stuff now, would it?"

When Tonks came to round them up for lunch, she found him sitting alone under the same tree, clutching the side of his face that was a spectacular red colour. She almost swore she saw a hand-print outlined on his cheek.

"Oi! You changed colour!" she cried, leaping atop him in an effort to see better. As James went sailing back towards the ground with another loud and painful _thwack_, he was vaguely aware of Sirius's rambunctious niece interrogating him for tips to turn people's hair blue.

* * *

Remus asked suddenly, looking up from the magazine he was reading, lying on his stomach on the bed, "Sirius?" 

"Mm-hmm?"

Sirius had been flicking his wand in the air, producing bursts of fairy lights, tweeting canaries, and autumn leaves, and he flipped over on his stomach on the floor to stare keenly at Remus.

"Do you ever the creepy feeling someone's watching you?"

"Oh sure, all the time. Every time I kick up heels in class it happens."

"That's _ogling_, Padfoot. I meant— watching. Like there's someone who notices your every movement, every heartbeat—"

"That's what the girls do at Hogwarts, too," interrupted Sirius, still not getting Remus's point. "Of course, this is the first time I've caught Prongs staring at a bloke, but—" He shrugged nonchalantly as his friend just blanched. "Theses things happen…"

Remus made a disbelieving noise. "Oh excuse me for not being used to being treated like a zoo exhibit."

The sharp nudge of Lily's elbow nearly winded him, making James wonder if it really was so bad when she hated his guts— at least then it was just verbal abuse. The two of them were huddled in the boughs of a tree, watching the pair in the guest bedroom from across the garden with a pair of binoculars charmed to magnify the image. "Stop fidgeting so much," she hissed. "They'll see us—"

* * *

James Potter had been faced with many things in his life that might inspire fear in grown wizards— McGonagall after he'd tried cheeking her, Snape when he found out who was behind charming his robes flowery pink, Lily in general before she took pity on him and agreed to go out with him— and even a laundry basket full of Sirius's socks. 

And he'd overcome them all. Albeit with a month of horrible detentions, a lifetime of checking his food and drink for poison, being beaten black and blue, and the sensation that he'd died and been sent to hell without second thought. But those are things that one can deal with— with much endurance and inspiration from the suffering saints.

However.

One man cannot brave all odds.

Which was why he was going to ask Lily to do it.

* * *

"No." 

"_Please_—?"

"No."

"Oh come on— it's probably the only favour I'll ever ask of you—"

"NO!"

"Lil-_lee_—"

She exploded.

Leaping up from the drawing room couch, she shot James a glare malevolent enough to freeze his blood, flung open Ted Tonks's liquor cabinet, snatched out a piece of paper, scribbled hurriedly on it, stuffed into a scarlet envelope that looked dreadfully familiar, sealed it with her wand, charmed it, scrunched it up in a ball and threw it at James.

She proceeded to stalk out of the house, as the envelope started to char at the corners. Even Sirius warbling off-key in the shower could hear the reverberating echoes of,

"NO. NAA. NAHIN. NYET. NEIN. NON. NEE. IIE…"

* * *

Her unrepentant, unhesitating rejection simplified matters for James who burning with embarrassment decided to be a man about it and marched into the kitchen where Tonks was sitting on the counter, piddling with a mirror, the other hand firmly deposited in the biscuit tin. The very sight of her cherubic face as she looked up and squealed with delight to see him made him quail. 

Then it took many metaphoric injections of masculinity, a booster dose of valiant Gryffindor bravery and many bribes before Tonks flashed one impossibly bright grin at him and climbed out the kitchen window— a very determined seven-year-old on a mission.

* * *

Remus Lupin was a person of great fortitude and endurance— that was what Lily Evans had kept telling him. Before being converted to the cause of James's love-struck suit of three years, Remus was the only Marauder she ever condescended to talk to, and only to rather sarcastically praise his stamina. Now, he was inclined to agree with her. 

"Now" of course referred to his current situation— he had fallen from grace and had been reduced to a common thief, forced to steal a ladder from the garden shed in order to be able to read his book in peace.

He was more than shocked witless when a head poked up through the branches, and a very relieved-looking Sirius Black hauled himself up. "Hi, Moony," was all that he had to say for himself.

"What are you doing here."

Sirius cast a shifty glance at the ground beneath him. "See, err, it's Tonks—"

Remus arched an eyebrow. "That sounds like the beginning of a pretty lame excuse, you know."

"You don't have any experience in dealing with her!" protested Sirius exasperatedly. "She's pro'lly the most persistent kid on this side of the world— and right now she's decided it's the funniest thing in the world to dye my hair— blue."

"_Blue_—?"

"Just. Don't. _Ask_."

* * *

"Uhm, Lily, what would say if I told you there are a pair of legs dangling from the apple-tree?" 

"I'd say you need more glasses."

"No I mean—_look_. There. See?"

"The last time I checked you were _myopic_, Potter, not blind."

"What? Don't tell me you can't see—"

Lily turned round, grabbed him by two handfuls of his shirt and gave him a hard, rattling shake. "_Potter_, I. Saw. There are _two_ pairs of legs—"

A mischievous glint crept into his eyes. "You don't say now… You know, I have an idea."

* * *

In consequence— Cain was raised. That bit of necromancy involved an Invisibility Cloak and the disappearance of stolen goods from the toolshed.

* * *

"Hey, Moony— can I tell you a secret?" 

Remus, busy peering to see what was going on down below — more specifically what the ladder was doing not being propped up against the tree — made a distracted noise. Sirius accepted it as the best invitation he was likely to get.

"I'm no good with climbing trees."

Remus froze.

The first thing that sprang to his lips was a choicely oath.

He tried desperately to forget he was in the same predicament, and had been counting on Sirius to scale down and fetch help.

"Can I tell you another secret?"

Remus figured, _what the hell_, it couldn't get any worse. He nodded slowly.

"I'm scared of heights."

And there was only so much that Remus Lupin could take.

* * *

"SIRIUS BLACK! YOU ARE IN A SODDING _TREE_, TWENTY FEET ABOVE THE GROUND. HOW THE _HELL_ DID YOU GET ACROPHOBIC?"

* * *

Spying from their perch on the kitchen counter, trying not to fall into the sink, James and Lily exchanged furtive looks. 

"What if he's really scared of heights?" she asked anxiously. "You don't think we've gone too far—"

James made a reassuring gesture. "Don't worry so much. We aren't leaving them there all night. A tree is just as effective as a broom closet."

* * *

"Moony — Remus — are you alright?" And it wasn't a facetious question. Remus's ashen face really _did_ unnerve Sirius. 

Stony silence.

"You know we haven't tried screaming for help. Yet—"

_One_.

_Two_.

_Three—_

"_NO_!"

Sirius allowed himself a complacent smile for finally having evoked a response. James wasn't the only with a big ego, and it was another victory for Sirius to learn that the techniques he used to rile up Prongs produced pretty good results with Remus— considering Moony belonged to another species of student entirely.

* * *

"Hey, Potter? — I don't think your plan's working." 

"Mmm, yeah. They're such stubborn gits. What do we have to do? — slap a KISS ME, I'M IN LURVE sign on them?"

"_We_—?" repeated Lily in alarm.

"Or do we have to spray pheromones on them or something—"

The mental image Lily was conjuring, with a booster dose of raging teenage hormones, made her first go red then burst out laughing so hard that she nearly toppled off the counter.

James ranting about resorting to spray guns of testosterone— lunged forward with all of a Quidditch player's reflexes to catch her before she crashed to the ground. Disbalanced, one knee rammed down into the sink while the other rested precariously on the edge of the counter on her other side. But he didn't care— his arms were securely wrapped around Lily who was still laughing hysterically.

"Thanks — Potter," she gasped. "My knight — in — in — shiny armour—"

"It's the least I can do, fair maiden," returned James, grinning like a bashful eleven-year-old at her. "Besides— I couldn't risk you getting a concussion— what if it made you forgot all about the last three days, huh?"

* * *

Remus snuck a surreptitious look at Sirius, and immediately read the truth in the wink that Sirius shot him. He scowled to hide his own sheepishness. 

"Hey, come on, Moony," Sirius tried again. "I _was_ telling the truth — I _am_ scared of heights — but it was just clean fun, you know—"

"Har, har, Padfoot."

Sirius shot him a liquid puppy-eyed look. Remus was alarmed by how that expression was so totally— _Sirius_. A lot of things were, he realized suddenly.

Pouncing on his friends to tickle them mercilessly — squandering his allowance on cheap Muggle junk to spite his family — dropping live toads into Snape's cauldron — flagrant bisexuality—

He blinked despite himself.

_What the—_?

Sirius was leaning forward on his branch, looking — no, gazing — no, _devouring_ Remus with the hunger in his eyes— Remus tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it wouldn't go away.

"Stop," he protested weakly. His nerves crackled with a pleasurable tingle beneath his skin that frightened level, sane Lupin at the same time. "Sirius— stop."

_In the name of Merlin_! _His voice was shaking_!

Sirius blinked, and the expression cleared away at once. "I'm sorry, Moony," he said again. "I was just trying to creep you— not scare you."

"I — it — work — 's okay — alright?"

He shook his head earnestly, leaning forward precariously again. "No — no, it's not okay. Look at you— you've gone awfully pale."

Remus clapped a hand to his cheek. "Well — well—" He looked around, trying to bluff. "Well — my face is lying."

Sirius arched an eyebrow disbelievingly.

"_It is_! Faces lie."

He didn't want to think it was concern that was etched into the contours of Sirius's face. Sirius — who could be callous and thoughtless — Sirius who would have laughed it off had it been with James or Peter — Sirius who was actually worried because it _wasn't_ them, because it was him — Remus.

* * *

James day was uncomfortably reminiscent of what Lily's parents called "AC." 

He wasn't entirely sure of what it meant, because wizards never went to Electri City. (From the way the Muggles went on about it, it was actually something they _used_— but he must have misunderstood, because even wizards knew you can't _use_ a city.) At first, he'd thought "AC" referred to those big boxes that the rich folk attached to the wall to cool up the room if it got too hot. Then Lily took him out of earshot of her parents and gave him a long and complicated educational lecture, making AC sound like a snake that twitched to one side and then to the other.

When he'd told her as much, she just stared at him and asked in a very soft voice what his IQ was and how he managed to get as many OWLs as he did. Then she gave up on him. Permanently.

Replaying the conversation in his head, he gleaned that AC — aside from being a box to regulate temperature (a complicated compensation for a warming or cooling spell) — was something that fluctuates.

That was what was happening to his day, in short.

After the slight mishap, Lily had decided it was best to get off the counter, and their elbows jostled for room as they stood peering from the sink. Then it got too difficult for them to use two pairs of binoculars, so they decided to share one. They saw very little progress, except for Sirius helping Remus across the gap between their branches, and they two of the them sat straddling the same bough, legs dangling.

Having watched for a few minutes more, Lily had suddenly moved away and said they should just replace the ladder and be done with it. Andromeda and Ted would be back soon.

James had pointed out in his most reasonable voice that it was only twelve o' clock, and the Tonkses wouldn't be back until five. He had somehow coaxed her into returning to the view, and she'd agreed half-heartedly. He then proceeded to give up all pretence of interest in his two other best friends, and focused his attention on distracting her from going to their rescue.

To her credit— she lasted a long time. She had been able to resist the lingering touches of his lips on her jawline, the feel of one arm around her waist, the other drawing lazy circles into her back, drawing pleasurable shivers. When he pressed his cheek against her hair and actually started murmuring beside her ear how beautiful she was, how much she meant to him, how glad he was that they were on the same side of the fence— well, that did it quite effectively.

With a metallic clatter, the binoculars fell into the sink, and James was rapidly being backed against the kitchen wall, Lily pinning him there with her arms and her lips, and he sealed his fate by kissing her back, barely remembering to draw up for air. Clumsy with passion — giddy with love — they tripped, falling, smacking into the wall, shifting, moving, but there were only milliseconds during which their lips parted.

Before they realized it, Lily was pushing James back and there wasn't a wall behind him anymore — he whacked into the door which swung open at once — sending them tumbling to the ground. They were still kissing when they fell, though.

* * *

"Remus — listen — I know you'll lose all respect for me after this — but I have to tell you this now — my backside hurts like hell and I'm hungry and I don't want repressed emotions giving me indigestion — alright?" 

"Sure, go ahead, Sirius," said Remus wryly. "Nice to know I'm being used as an antacid—"

But Sirius wasn't listening.

"I have feelings for you."

Silence. Remus probed it tentatively.

"It's called friendship, Sirius. A new word: camaraderie. Being matey—"

"No, I mean feelings — like the romantic kind—"

"That's ridiculous. You're the most heterosexual girl magnet I've ever known."

"_Listen_, Remus — I don't know what this is called — I dunno if it's love—"

"Wow, I'm being dumped even before I hear your declarations of passion."

"_And_," went on Sirius firmly, "being around you makes me feel nice — warm — good — in a different kind of way than being around James or Peter — this feeling's stronger. I mean — you make my heart beat when you laugh, not just smile—"

"And your heart _doesn't_ beat when I don't laugh—"

"Dammit, Lupin," he snapped with sudden vehemence, "why are you making this so bloody difficult? If you don't want to hear it — just — just — say so, alright? I'm a big boy, I can take it."

Remus said softly. "Oh, but I _do_ want to hear it. But you said it yourself— you don't know if it's love or if it's nothing. Tomorrow you'll wake up and be back to normal."

"Don't say that—" said Sirius sharply.

"No?"

"No."

"And why not?"

"Because liking you is normal. Loving you is — is even better."

"That's what? Your best romantic one-liner, Black?"

"Are you falling for it?"

"I fell for it a long while ago, actually."

"Does this mean you like me too?"

"Did I say I didn't—?"

"In the way I mean it—?"

"Which way would that be?"

"Don't be evil."

"Yes, I do, Sirius. I know which way you mean. When you speak, I hear it in your voice."

"My voice — unlike your face — doesn't lie."

"If it does, I'll break your bones."

"Hah! I'd like to see you try."

Shy apprehension.

"Sirius—?"

"Mm?"

"Can I — can I kiss you?"

"I was wondering when—"

But Remus was tired of the silly banter and tired of the wait. He turned as best as he could, craning his head at an awkward angle, but all discomfort vanished as Sirius met his lips halfway there. He leaned into that kiss, that tiny, hesitant gesture that spoke volumes for them both and the future they would begin. It was brief, chaste and lingering, and flushing, they looked at one another in the eye and held that gaze. They didn't say a word then, and wondered if there would ever be a need to do so ever again.

"It's love all right," declared Sirius goofily, miming a toast. "Here's to — us."

"I'll drink to that."

"You'll drink to anything— you closet drunkard."

"To young love!" seconded somebody happily. A red-lipped James Potter was standing under the tree— laughing triumphantly as he ducked away before either Remus or Sirius could fling their imaginary champagne flutes at him.

**—- End -—**


End file.
